


Flying Casual

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Gen, Vignette, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-04
Updated: 2003-07-04
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: What's there to fight for, besides the future?





	Flying Casual

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Flying Casual

## Flying Casual

### by Rhetta

TITLE: Flying Casual  
AUTHOR: Rhetta  
**RATING: PG-13**  
CLASSIFICATION: Vignette; Mulder POV  
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just let me know.  
SPOILERS: 'The Truth'  
DISCLAIMER: Mulder and the rest of the 'X-Files' belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and FOX. David Duchovny belongs to himself. SUMMARY: What's there to fight for, besides the future? AUTHOR'S NOTE: A big thanks to sallie for the great beta help. 

* * *

"Keep your distance, though, Chewie, but don't look like you're trying to keeping your distance...I don't know. Fly casual." 

-Han Solo 'Return of the Jedi' 

* * *

It's not her. I know that. And I readily accept the fact that no amount of wishing can make it her. But still, like some Pavlovian dog, when I see red hair I turn toward it. 

NotScully smiles at me. It's a polite smile meaning nothing. It doesn't reach her eyes. I can't blame her. Mine doesn't either. 

She's just another faceless person in a sea of faceless people. I couldn't even tell you what color her eyes are. I'm staring at her and I couldn't even tell you. They're all starting to bleed together. That should worry me. It used to. 

All I know is it's not Scully. None of them are. 

I still don't know why I'm doing this. Why I don't just scrap it all and go back to get Scully and William. To hell with the Future. Let it fight for itself. 

Then again, William is the future. He's our son. I can't just sit back and let the world end because it doesn't go the way I want, can I? 

I wasn't there for the pregnancy. I wasn't there for the birth. But I held my son in my arms when I did get there, and held Scully while we both cried. I know what's worth fighting for. Who is worth fighting for. 

Maybe the world isn't worth saving now. Maybe I'm not worth saving. William is. And Scully. 

I'll fight for them. 

Or, as the case usually is, get my ass kicked for them. I've gotten pretty good at it over the years. I'm about ready to turn pro. 

Today will probably be a big step in that direction. I got a cryptic message saying I'd find what I'd been searching for at the Mount Weather Complex in Bluemont, Virginia. They sent a map and code key, even an ID and a few passwords, mentioned a good opportunity to go too. Now I'm not an idiot. I know it's at best a dead end, at worst a trap. Hell, it might even be a clever combination of the two. 

Either way, I don't care. I'm going anyway. Besides, I haven't had my ass kicked in a few weeks. I'm due. 

With fatherhood comes responsibility. And apparently the loss of common sense. 

After all, what if it's what I've been searching for, what Scully and I have been searching for? I would say it might even be the key to everything that's in the X-Files, but then so was Gibson. So were a lot of things, a whole lot of things. 

Fact is, I don't need to find the key anymore. I just need to find the damn door to use it on. 

Which is where NotScully and her List Of Those Who May Pass comes in. She glances down at said list. A frown appears. "Only five people are listed here." She looks back at me with a raised eyebrow. It's not even close to Scully's little maneuver. She probably has that thing patented. "What was your name again?" NotScully asks. 

I sigh in a pretty damn good approximation of weary annoyance and take out my new Consortium-Friendly ID. Either this will get me on the helicopter, or it will get me killed. I couldn't tell you which I'm rooting for at the moment. 

NotScully leans closer to get a better look. Her eyes widen after a moment and she looks back at me. "Oh." She straightens quickly. "Mr. Grant, I'm very sorry. I wasn't aware this was a special trip. No one informed me. I'll add you to the list immediately." She motions me towards the large doors leading to the field. 

I smile and head outside. I guess it's a Consortium-Very Friendly ID. 

By the time I reach the helicopter, everyone else has boarded. I nod at the others as I strap in. 

I came back from the dead with nothing to show for it and nowhere to fit in. I let the X-Files slip away from me without a fight. I didn't see the point anymore. They got me without even having to really try. Hell, I helped. 

I look out the window as the helicopter rises. Finally, some progress is being made. It's been a year of wandering in circles. A year with no hope. A year without Scully and my son. That changes now.   
  


#### If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Rhetta


End file.
